


Bad Again

by Torradin341



Series: Heartbreak Ficlets [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Depression, Flash Fic, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Not Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torradin341/pseuds/Torradin341
Summary: What it's like when things get bad again.





	Bad Again

It was getting bad again.

Today was a bad day. Not just a normal bad day, but a very bad day, and she knew it. She could tell because she left early from work, because she didn't "feel well". Not in a physical sense, but in a very mental sense. Everything weighed more. All of her decisions, all of her interactions, all of her words, they all weighed more. She was starting to drown with the weight of it.

That's how it had been last time.

Things had been going better, on the whole. Worse in some areas, better in others, but over all, better. She couldn't create, but she could interact. She couldn't host, but she could attend. She could read some things, but not others. Books were out, but comics and fics were doable.

But things were getting worse.

She was checking out at work more and more. She could read less and less. She was making excuses to get out of attending things more and more. She could still push through, but it was getting harder and harder. It was draining her reserves constantly. She was exhausted all the time, talked less, more often forgot to eat.

That's exactly how it had started last time.

Today she had just shut down. Emotionally cut off, barely there mentally, she just went home.

She was terrified, or at least, a tiny part of her, very deep inside was. She could see that much, at least. But her active self was detached. Observant. Unfeeling. Clinical. She knew this was bad, knew that she should do something.

But she just lay there, holding her pillow, staring. Staring into the middle distance somewhere between where she lay and the wall. Unseeing.

She wondered how long she was going to do that.

The thought drifted away. After all, thinking took effort. So did caring. And she didn't care any more. Not right now, at least. Maybe not ever. A tiny voice inside her screamed in pain. It cared.

That's how she knew it was getting bad again.

If only she could care.


End file.
